


Days In December

by SamwiseLives



Category: God's Own Country
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:39:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamwiseLives/pseuds/SamwiseLives
Summary: Christmas is coming.





	Days In December

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.

December 9th.

 

It all started with the discovery of a dusty box, shoved to the back of the storage cupboard. Long forgotten and sealed with crumbling brown tape, it had instantly aroused Gheorghe's curiosity. The search for fresh bed linens all but forgotten, he pulled the box from its hiding place and brought it out into the light of the hallway to fully discover his find.

Christmas decorations.  
The box was overflowing with everything that would be needed for a good festive show. Tinsel that had seen better days, fairy lights, baubles in great supply and several handmade ornaments that flaked glitter, and had clearly been made with a childish hand.  
Johnny. Was this the work of his John?  
Gheorghe smiled softly, closed the box and took his prize down to the kitchen.

 

Deirdre turned to him before he had the chance to voice a question that had not been fully formed. Always aware of every footfall in her kitchen, she was never surprised by the careful steps of the gentle man who had managed to capture the heart of her sullen grandson.  
What did surprise her however, was what Gheorghe held in his hands.

'It's a long time since anyone saw the inside of that box, I can tell you.' She spoke, her hands twisting in the tea towel she held. Her eyes wide with memories.

'You do not have Christmas here?' Gheorghe asked quietly, all too aware of the look she was giving the box in his hands. He should have left well alone.

'Oh, yes, lad. We have a Christmas of sorts. A few presents, a bit of dinner, that kind of thing. But...but not decorations. Not since the boy was young. Not since his mother walked out.' She added with a bitterness to her words. It still stung, the sight of a painfully young Johnny up at the living room window that fateful day, patiently waiting for his mother to return.  
She never did.

'I will put it back.' Gheorghe swallowed thickly, made to turn away. His excitement disappearing, replaced with a sickening feeling of helplessness and guilt.

'You know something,' Deirdre spoke again after what seemed like forever. 'I think that perhaps it's time this house saw a proper Christmas again. Might do us all some good.'

 

It wasn't the best of trees, but it was all his, cut down with an axe that needed to see a whetstone, dragged through the hallway and into the living room, shedding more than it's fair share of pine needles that they would all be picking out of their socks for weeks to come.

The old tin bucket the tree sat in did little to stabilise it, however much earth he packed into. But the tree didn't appear to be falling over anytime soon. It would certainly do.  
He stood back, finally pleased with his labours.

Now, for the decorations.

 

The fairy lights had clearly just been pulled from whatever tree they had previously decorated, and thrown carelessly into the box without a thought to wrapping them. They were a mess, and it took Gheorghe more time than he cared to admit to untangle the plastic green wire.  
Finally, job done, he was further frustrated to discover that after a brave flicker of life upon plugging them in, the lights immediately died in his hands.

Each and every bulb would have to be wiggled back into place.

Not every one as it turned out. After a time, and the correct bulb pushed into its rightful home, the lights blinked back to life, and satisfied that they would stay that way, he began to drape them over the branches of his tree.

Just as he hung the last bauble, one which lost golden glitter with his every touch, Gheorghe heard the kitchen door being opened and a slight draft echoing into the room. Johnny was home. And along with his arrival, an anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

It had been the thought of his nice warm, soft bed and his equally nice, warm soft boyfriend that had kept Johnny going throughout the day. December was never an easy time around the farm, what with the encroaching cold weather, the ongoing threat of ice, and the fact that it was almost Christmas. He stamped off the mud from his boots, least he should traipse dirty footprints across his Nan's kitchen floor.

Christmas had not been a great time for him since his mother had left all those long years ago, taking with her his smile, and his father's hopes. He couldn't wait for the month to be done with.  
And, he thought with a sigh, surely Gheorghe would be returning to his own family for Christmas? He hadn't said as much, but wasn't it obvious? Why would he want to stay in the cheerless little cottage that hadn't seen anything remotely festive for such a long time? An ailing father, an uncompromising old woman and a surly, once cheating boyfriend? Hell, why would he even think about coming back? Johnny knew it was only a matter of time before Gheorghe saw them all for what they truly were.

He set foot in the kitchen with a heavy heart, doing his best not to think about another lonely, cold Christmas.

 

Nan was at the hob, stirring something in the big saucepan.

'Smell's good.' Johnny remarked, hanging his coat beside the back door. 'It's getting right cold out, I hope there isn't going to be a frost tonight.' He was surprised that Nan didn't reply. Despite her long silences, she usually had a word or two for him when he got in. 'Nan?'

'What?' She seemed to shake herself out of her melancholy, finally setting aside the spoon in her hand and turning to him.

'Something the matter?' His eyes flittered over to the table, where a notebook was laid out, his Nan's scratchy handwriting visible from the awkward angle. 

'Been making a few lists.' She told him, following his gaze. 'Thinking of getting a few bits in for Christmas.'

'We don't bother.'

'What with your man here, I thought it might be nice for him. For us.' She added, almost as an afterthought.

'I wouldn't bother on Gheorghe's account.' His voice came out harsher than he intended. 'He'll not be wanting to stop round here.' He felt his eyes begin to sting with hot tears, and there was a lump in his throat, making words seem harder than they should.

'Have you thought to ask?'

'Well, no.' Johnny scratched the back of his neck, admitting his silence on the matter. 'But what's he got to stay here for? We don't do Christmas, and we are not his family. He's got better places to be at for this time of year.'

'I'd go see him if you are thinking that.' She turned back to her pot.

 

The door to the living room was ajar, and through the slight crack, Johnny could see a flickering of colour that was too bright to be coming from the creaky television set. Pushing the door open, he was confronted by the sight of Gheorghe looping a battered bauble onto the branch of a tree.

'I can take it down if you do not like it.' Gheorghe was quick to open his mouth, stepping away from his afternoon's work and regarding Johnny with a mix of fear and trepidation. An apology already building in his mind. It had been a thoughtless idea, Johnny would hate it. He looked into the eyes of the man he woke with day after day, and could not read the emotions crossing his pale, beautiful face. 'It was wrong of me to think...'

'Shut up.' Johnny spoke, words finally coming to him. 'Don't.'

'John?' He put his hand on Johnny's shoulder, feeling the tension under his fingers. 'I am sorry. I shall take it all down.'

'It's...It's lovely.' Johnny breathed, and Gheorghe felt his own body relax. He slipped his arm around Johnny's waist, needing the reassurance that this was indeed all right.

'You like it? Really? I thought that perhaps...'

'I like it. But...I figured...That you'd...' He tailed off, worry creasing his forehead.

'Tell me.' Gheorghe pulled him close, pressing his lips to that sad frown. 'Why so worried?'

'I figured that you would be going home for Christmas, to be with your family. You don't be needing to put up a tree for the rest of us.' It was stupid, he was stupid, but he couldn't make himself meet Gheorghe's eyes.

'You are my family.' Gheorghe told him, raising unexpected tears. 'And this is my home.'

 

December 21st.

 

Johnny knew he had already left it much too late to get Gheorghe a thoughtful gift for the rapidly approaching day, but what with the animals, the recent cold snap, his father and so much more, he had found himself with little time to see to the frivolities. But... Wasn't that an easy excuse? Gheorghe had managed just fine to set down three colourfully wrapped presents, each one with neatly written tags, sparkly bows and curling ribbon. He had clearly put a lot of care into each one. And what had Johnny got? Nothing, that was the sum of his efforts. Bloody nothing.

But, little time was better than no time. If he was to hurry, to throw on his coat, he could make it into town before the shops closed.

 

After several wandering attempts at finding a gift, staring listlessly into shop windows, sampling the latest aftershave and feeling jumpers, he was about ready to give up and forget the whole Christmas present thing after all. Perhaps Gheorghe would be happy with a tin of biscuits and a bottle of whiskey? After all, wasn't his father pleased with that every year? Nan had perfume, how about going back to that first shop and getting the girl behind the counter to pick out the latest celebrity smell? 

And then he found it, staring brightly at him from a festive window display.

Simple, unadorned and perfect. The silver ring, in it's navy velvet box, beckoned him closer, his fingers leaving smudges on the glass where he touched. There would be no mistaking what this gift would mean when Gheorghe unwrapped it on Christmas morning.

He opened the door to the jewellers.

 

It was crazy of him to think that Gheorghe would want to tie himself to this place, to him, for the rest of his life. Stupid and selfish to even think it, let alone ask. Johnny had already decided not to put the little present under the tree. For all Gheorghe knew, the jumper he'd had gift wrapped was to be his only gift.  
He was hardly marriage material, and, in all honesty, what could he ever offer Gheorghe? Filled with doubt and uncertainty, he tossed the box into the top draw of his bureau. Perhaps another time.  
Perhaps never.

 

December 24th.

 

Gheorghe was asleep. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft puffs of air escaping his parted lips did nothing to lull Johnny into his own slumber.  
It had been a long day. They always were, and Johnny was always left wondering why Gheorghe stayed. Especially when the night came and he was the one left awake while Gheorghe slept on, safe in his dreams and warm in their little bed.

He knew he could touch the sleeping man without fear of waking him from his much needed rest. Gheorghe was always the one who worked harder, did more and complained less.

The ring came back to mind, sitting silently in the back of his draw. What on earth had he been thinking? Gheorghe was worth so much more than that cheap band of silver. Worth more than Johnny could ever hope to have.

He traced the buttons on Gheorghe's flannel pyjamas, grazing his fingertips over the tiny patch of hair that valiantly tried to escape the top most button. Once summer came, they would sleep naked, but winter was far to cold for that sort of idea. Sleepy fumblings were conducted deep under the blankets, hidden under sleeping clothes, the little bubble of warmth too precious to risk.  
The man, his man, was too good for the likes of him, and Johnny knew that only too well. He had been mad to throw it all away, mad to let go of the one good thing in his sad little life. Getting him back was an impossibility, but here he was, back in his bed months later. Staying.  
Johnny could still feel the weight of his own betrayal, stinging his eyes, wanting to overflow down his cheeks and soak into the covers.  
He didn't deserve such a gift, he would never deserve the man sleeping peacefully beside him.

'Don't cry.' The soft cadence of Gheorghe's voice startled him, he hadn't realised, hadn't been paying close enough attention.

'Sorry.' Johnny sniffed, made to turn away, dragging his hand shamefully across his wet eyes. 'I...I thought you were asleep.' Gheorghe's hand on his arm stopped him from straying too far.

'Don't be sorry.' There was that understanding smile, the one that knew him so completely. 'Talk to me.'

'It's late. You should sleep.'

'So should you.' He tugged at him, careful in his handling. 'Here, come here.' With a little bit of pushing and pulling and no resistance, Johnny found himself with his head against Gheorghe's heartbeat, an arm around his back and fingers combing through his growing hair. 'You take on too much. Let me in, John.' 

'Why didn't you go home?' Johnny whispered.

'For Christmas, or forever?' Gheorghe asked gently, knowing what Johnny couldn't voice.

'Christmas, both. I don't know.' Johnny managed. 'I don't know why you stay.'

'You do not?' Gheorghe shook his head, despite knowing that Johnny couldn't see him. 'You should know by now, John.' He sighed deeply, making Johnny's head rise and fall against his chest. 'I do not stay for your horrible wet weather, or the terrible pots of noodles that pass for food around here. I do not stay for this tiny bed and having to keep you quiet when we make love. I stay because you are here. And with you is where I belong.'

'Gheorghe...'

'Do you know what I think?' Gheorghe paused, giving Johnny a chance to stop him, kiss him, anything. When he kept his silence, Gheorghe continued. 'I think you are scared. Scared of the life you have, of the life you want. Scared of what we have.'

'I'm a fuck up.'

'No. You are not, you are strong and brave and have been lonely. You do not have to feel that way anymore, John. I know you think I will leave. Like your mother did to you. I am not her, I will not leave you.'

'You can't promise me that, you don't know.'

'I know how I feel about you. I am in love with you. And I think that you are in love with me, even though you cannot say it.'

Johnny pulled himself up, away, startling Gheorghe with his haste to get out of his arms.

'John?' Instantly cold and surprised, he watched as Johnny moved to the bureau, ripping the top draw open with force, almost scattering the contents across the bedroom floor.

'I may not have the words...' He turned to Gheorghe, something clutched in his hand, turning his knuckles white with strain. 'But I have...I have... Oh, fuck it.' He placed the little box that meant so much on Gheorghe's chest.

'What..?'

'Tell me I'm an idiot. Tell me that I have gotten it so wrong.' Johnny spoke, his hands shaking. He ran them through his hair, anything to distract from the way he trembled. Turning away, he couldn't look as Gheorghe hauled himself upright, plucking the box from his chest. 'Tell me no.'

'You have not asked me anything.' Gheorghe spoke in the ensuing silence.

'You don't need me to say it. You can see.' Johnny snapped, angry at himself, at his own foolishness. 

'I may not need it, John. But I want it. Say it. Ask me.'

'I'm a no good fuck up who doesn't deserve you. No one deserves you. No one will ever be good enough. But you...you stay with me, you tell me all kinds of things that I want to believe, but you can't mean any of them. Look at what I did, at who I am. You will realise, one day you will look at where you are, and who you are with and regret every single fucking moment. I want to marry you, Gheorghe. I want it so much I can't breathe. But...but...'

'I only got you a pair of gloves.' Gheorghe spoke softly from the bed, looking at the silver wedding band that lay in the box. 'You never remember your gloves, and you always get such cold hands. I worry about you.'

'You shouldn't.'

'It is what a husband would do.'

Dare he even wish for the impossible? Johnny turned back. Gheorghe was holding out the ring. Waiting. 

'Ask me.'

Johnny swallowed, his voice coming out thick, heavy with the weight of hopeful expectation. 'I...I love you. I know I don't say it, and I know that I should tell you every day. I want to, but I can't seem to get the words.' His face flushing, he climbed back onto the bed, sitting at Gheorghe's feet. 'I love you, and I will tell you every single day for the rest of our lives. Marry me, Gheorghe.' 

He took the ring from Gheorghe's outstretched hand.

 

Kiss bruised and still catching his breath, Johnny burrowed further under the covers, taking Gheorghe with him.

'When I get some money I'll get you a better one.'

'Don't you dare!' Gheorghe exclaimed, shocked by the very idea. 'It is perfect.' Pressing kisses along Johnny's cheekbones, he continued to speak. 'As soon as tomorrow is done, we will go into town and find you a ring as perfect as this is.'

'There's no rush.' Johnny grinned, threading his fingers into Gheorghe's thick hair and tugging him closer. 'I'm still going to marry you, ring or no.'

 

December 25th.

 

Lazy kisses followed into the dark, sleep was pushed aside as Christmas Eve turned into day, and a bright sunrise filtered through the paper thin curtains. Too lost in the moment, too lost in each other to give a thought to time.  
Gheorghe and Johnny didn't realise that Christmas Eve, and all it had brought, had come to an end. Not until Deirdre's voice carried up the stairs and into their little haven.

'Breakfast's going cold!' They heard her yell. 'And the animals will be wanting tending.'

'Coming, Nan.' Johnny yelled right back, knowing full well that if they failed to show in the next few minutes, she would be up and banging on the door. Propriety not an issue when it came to promptness.

'You certainly did last night.' Gheorghe laughed into Johnny's throat, his rough stubble raising blood to the surface in prickling heat. 'Several times I believe.'

'Shut up!' Johnny gave him a weak shove. 'We best be going down, like. You know how she gets.' He was up and out of the bed, his skin turning to goose flesh in the cold morning chill.

'And are we telling them?' Gheorghe sat up, scrubbing a hand over his sleepy face.

'It's up to you.' Johnny said, almost defensively, quickly picking up his clothes for the day. It was too cold to linger. 'If you'd rather people didn't know...'

'I would tell anyone who would care to listen.' Gheorghe threw back the covers, 'I would tell the world.' It took him less than two strides to cover the floor and gather Johnny up in his arms. 'Don't you fret none. I am thinking of you. It is your grandmother and your father.'

'I know, I'm sorry.' Johnny breathed, allowing himself to sink into the hug. 'It's just a little strange to think about it, you know?' Gheorghe nodded in reply. 'I never thought I'd be with anyone, let alone getting married. That was always for others, not me.' He sighed heavily as Gheorghe trailed his fingers up and down his spine, calming him. 'I love you.' He whispered, making good on his promise of telling him everyday. 'I'll be better for you. You deserve better.'

'I already have all I shall ever need.'

 

Deirdre was leaning over Martin's plate when Johnny and Gheorghe appeared. It wasn't until she glanced away from where she had been helping her son cut up his breakfast that she saw the two men were not moving. Johnny stood behind Gheorghe, a sheepish look on his face, like a naughty little schoolboy caught doing something wrong.  
Then she saw it, a glint of silver on a finger where there had once been nothing.

'Are you lads sitting down or what? Likely it's cold now anyway.' Her clipped tone was enough to have Gheorghe take the lead and step into the warm room. She took her own seat, her eyes fixing on the face of her grandson.

'I see you two have already been opening presents.' She gestured to Gheorghe's hand with the tip of her knife.

'Yeah.' Johnny answered for them both, finally joining the trio at the table. 'Do...do you mind?' 

'I'll tell you something for nothing,' she set down her knife and fork, her eyes on a waiting Johnny. 'You've not had an easy time of it. And I take my share of the blame in that.' When Johnny went to open his mouth to protest, she silenced him with her hand over his. 'Let me say my peace. It has been a long time coming, your smile. Your father and I had started to believe that it were gone for good. But it come when this here one,' She said, tipping her head to Gheorghe, who sat quietly, eyes on Johnny. 'When he came along, well, we saw it then, your smile.' She paused, unaccustomed to the show of affection. 'So, you ask if I mind? No, lad. I don't mind one bit.'

Johnny gave his chair a hard push, the wood scraping noisily against the flooring. Getting to his feet, he wrapped an arm clumsily around her shoulders.

'Merry Christmas, Nan.'

'Merry Christmas to you too, my boy.' She patted him briefly. 'Now, be off with you.'

'Animals to feed.' Gheorghe pushed aside what remained of his breakfast. He could see the wellspring of emotion crossing Johnny's face. Knowing that tears were something John would not want to share with his family, he reached out a hand for him to take.

'Yeah.' Was all Johnny said, his fingers winding through Gheorghe's without a blink of hesitation. 

Keeping his head down and his gaze to the floor, Johnny didn't notice his father catching Gheorghe eye, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. 'Thank you.' He mouthed, head bobbing in a nod. It was all the acceptance Gheorghe needed from the father of the man he loved.

He lead Johnny from the kitchen, his hand tight around his. There was still time.  
Time for stolen kisses, and a quick press up against the barn wall. The cows wouldn't mind. After all, it was Christmas Day.


End file.
